


Let me bloom

by Poljupci



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Magical Tattoos, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 10:01:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15883791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poljupci/pseuds/Poljupci
Summary: Every single human being is born with a tiny mark on one of their wrists which mirrors the one of their soulmate's. With every interaction, the mark expands into various tattoos which can be either dark or light depending on the state of the interaction. It is a little less than eight years since Draco Malfoy met his soulmate in a tailor shop of sorts.Now, as he stares at the sleave of dark markings over his forearm, he wishes he never had.





	Let me bloom

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Español available: [Let me bloom - Traducción](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15906354) by [dari2210](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dari2210/pseuds/dari2210)
  * Translation into Français available: [Let me bloom - Traduction](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16415243) by [lunawolfgood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunawolfgood/pseuds/lunawolfgood)



It started with a dot. 

A small black dot on the inside of Draco's left wrist that could have easily been mistaken for a birthmark if the humanity knew nothing about things such as soulmates. But everyone, naturally, knew about the old tale of stars who were split in half upon their birth and their magic had to find its other half in a being that faith has chosen for them. 

Every witch or wizard, squib or a muggle would be gifted a mark on one of their wrists which would then bloom all over their skin once their magic found its soulmate. 

It took years for the strange sense of tingling to awake under Draco's skin and once he stepped out of the robe shop he pushed his sleeve up to see the source of the strange feeling. Just before his Father came into view, his eyes widened at the tiny, dark blue flower petals that formed on his skin, around the black dot. He pushed his sleeve down because Draco was a bright boy and even with his young age of eleven and a half, he knew that if his skin bloomed after conversing with Harry Potter it meant that they were soulmates. 

Surely, it had to be true, right? There was no chance either of the witches that worked in the shop shared their magic with him... No, he was certain it was Potter because he did get a glimpse of an intricate pattern of tattoos covering their forearms when their robes lifted during work. Draco remembers hiding the blooming from his parents until he had his suspicions confirmed. On the day of the first of September 1991, there began the infamous rivalry and so did the denial that was stronger than any hate either of the boys could feel. 

With every word, every touch, every spell and every glance, the two of them shared, there was that obnoxious tingle beneath their skin indicating that more and more of their skin was covered in marks. 

It's been years since that horrid realisation fell upon Draco and he was now back at Hogwarts, starring at his tattooed forearm as he had so many times before. The breeze from the open window he was sitting on was tangling in his hair and the soft touch of his fingers against all the black and dark blues sent shivers down his spine.

It was truly embarrassing - only rare people had so many dark colours blooming over their skin. But then again, only rare people tried to become mortal enemies with their soulmates. Draco traced the swirls of rose vines over his forearm, the half-finished dragon tail near his palm, dark blue flowers squeezed at the bottom of his wrist and then the curling snake and the skull that were the only designs that started to fade.

He remembered the mocking, loud and echoing in his ears when Voldemort cut his sleeve to reveal the shame that was a sleave of dark on his arm. The laughter, the spell and jinxes, the pitying looks because what a pretty little fool Draco was - thinking anyone could love him. "No one loves you, Draco, my dear," the icy, venomous voice of his father's Lord was pulsing in his memories. "Not even your soulmate loves you! How wretched must that feel!"

Draco opened his eyes quickly, not having noticed he had closed them at all. There was a pulsing pain in his left arm and he glanced down to see his nails digging into his skin. He moved his hand and took a couple of deep breaths, his eyes wandering towards the cloudy sky that spread over the castle. 

He had no idea what he was still doing here... Finishing his schooling? He could do that anywhere in the world. Making friends? Impossible since everyone was so obviously ignoring him. (Well... almost everyone but Draco wasn't a fool and he was sick of being pitied.) Attempting to cover the dark marks with light and colourful ones by being Harry's friend after all these years? More likely that he would like to admit but also a failure.

Only a slight, though since really, against all of the black and the brown and navy there were tiny, yellow flowers blooming in the crevasse and a phoenix was being formed over his shoulder, feather by feather. He used to stare at every dot of colour when they first started appearing but now they are just a painful reminder of all the wasted time and all the dark moments he and Harry shared during the time of knowing each other.

He pulled down his sleeve and closed his eyes, leaning back against the wall and trying to relax. He knew he won't be able to fall asleep as dawn was rapidly nearing and he rarely managed to go to sleep after nightmares and night-walks anyways. 

It couldn't be more than a quarter of an hour before Draco's eyes opened wide and his head snapped to the left at the sound of footsteps that despite the intruder's wish to be quiet still echoes in Draco's head.

"Relax," the voice couldn't be of anyone else but Potter. Draco wasn't surprised. "It's just me."

"What are you doing here, Potter?", Draco spat but there was no bite in his words that once used to be an ever-present entity when it came to Draco Malfoy.

"Nothing much..." Harry shrugged and sat on the floor next Malfoy after casting a mediocre cushioning charm. "Avoiding nightmares... Seeking sunrises... Blooming." With the last word, he turned his right forearm upside down to show Draco a pattern of spiky purple-ish flowers that spread over the side of his arm. Draco was pretty certain they were burdocks. 

"How'd you find me?" Draco still asked although the answer was always the same. It wasn't the first time that Harry had snuck onto Draco in early hours of cold mornings when neither of them had any hopes of sleep. They would chat, comparing the delicate petals that were pressed into their skin after a particularly joyful laugh or a heartfelt confession. One could say that they'd become pretty good friends during the last couple of months. Great friends, considering their past encounters.

"Same as always," Harry grinned and patted his pocket which rustled with old parchment. 

"That map is too dangerous in your hands," Draco snorted and shook his head lightly. "Poor old souls which you stalk at night."

"Are you jealous?" Harry glanced at him, strangely convinced that jealousy might actually be present in this case. Draco denied but he didn't really try too hard to cover up the fact that he's lying. "You are, aren't you?"

"Don't accuse me of such a peasant thing as jealousy."

"That's a yes then. You always start talking like a pompous bastard when you're flustered." There was a laugh they shared and then Harry took Draco's hand so they could watch a curling wine twist around their pinkies as they held hands.

"Just for the record -" Draco started after a moment of silence. The designed stilled once more and the tingles were now nothing more than a faint memory. "- I am not flustered. I just avoid deceiving myself that you would actually accept me after everything I've done to you..."

Harry frowned at that and his easy exterior slipped away instantly. The hold on Draco's hand tightened, reassuringly but Draco just sighed and continued looking into a patch of black marble near his heel. "You can't be thinking I would actually stalk someone who's not my soulmate, Draco."

"I wouldn't be surprised," Draco's shoulders lifted slightly and then slumped back down into that miserable position he found himself in. Despite the fact that their fingers were still intertwined, Draco gasped in surprise when Harry leaned against him and put his head on his shoulder. 

"I would never dare to do that, Draco," Harry whispered and shivers went down his spine as warm huffs of Harry's breath rolled over his neck and shoulder. "You see, our arms have so much darkness over them. Our past, there so much darkness spilling into it. And I would never, ever again, do anything that would bring more shadows into your life. Only light, only flowers..."

He then stopped and took Draco's arm onto his lap. The light brush of Harry's fingertips was so similar to the touch of Draco's own but so unlike nevertheless. It was gentler than a feather and warm, warmer than Draco's touch will ever be.  Even though the tips of Harry's fingers were barely there, the tingling, that followed them with every single one of their interactions, created small peony buds that slowly, oh, so slowly, began to burst to life in soft, baby pinks and blues, colours so light that it was impossible for them to cover the previous darkness. Draco almost couldn't believe his eyes when he saw his skin getting back to it's pale, pale colour, being covered in flower-buds.

"Do you think I could get them to bloom faster?" Harry's words were as soft as his touch but even if the flower petals hadn't begun to open at a faster rate, Draco wouldn't be able to miss the warm kisses Harry started pressing along his jaw. There was a hint of stubble on Potter's cheeks when Draco started chuckling.

"You're ridiculous, Harry Potter." 

"Why? Because I'm connecting with my one and only?" Harry was grinning while looking at him and Draco could almost feel his blush creeping from the back of his neck, over his ears, coating his cheeks. 

"No," Draco shook his head; barely even a movement. "Not at all because of that."

"Why then, Draco, darling?" It was such clear teasing that Draco couldn't help but groan.

"Well, first of all, because you just called me 'darling'," he said and then with a huff of annoyance. "You can't call me 'darling', Potter."

"Harry," Harry corrected. There never was a bigger grin than the grin that was on Harry's face at that moment. Amusement was shining in his eyes and Draco couldn't help but be more annoyed with the one who called himself his soulmate.

"You can't call me 'darling', Harry", Draco then repeated with an eye-roll and then Harry even go as further as cocking his head curiously before asking, "And why would that be?"

"The same reason that makes you ridiculous! You act as if we're best friends as if you could just come and jump into m arms and we would ride off into the sunset!"

"I don't act as if we're best friends... merely... soulmates?"

"Harry, we hated each other for seven years!"

"And we liked each other for nearly a one," Harry added, his smile still firm on his lips.

"You can't just erase everything that happened between us," Draco spoke, his voice getting lower and lower until the last words stayed in a whisper.

There were strings of silence stretching over them, tangling in the mess of their bed-hair and picking at their skin. The tingling stopped. The world was mute. Stillness overcomes the world of their reality and the clocks ticked no more. 

Or so it seemed. 

A moment, two or three. There was not a thing Draco could understand until Harry's palms were on his cheeks, warm against his cold, porcelain skin, their lips pressed together, gently and yet, a clear touch, Draco's fingers ruffling the drowsiness out of Harry's curls and they were kissing. 

Slow and long and bright as the sun that began to appear across the horizon. Harry's lips leading the Walz that swirled in their minds, a tender touch of his tongue against Draco's, a moan, a gasp. Melting.

Draco's heartbeat was louder than fireworks in his mind, the pulsing in his ears, the hot breath of his soulmate mixing with his own, the lightness of hair in his fingers, the brush of Harry's fingers against his lower back, the relentless tingles dancing over his forearm, his biceps, his shoulder, his fingertips. 

Overwhelming. Unbelievable. Remarkable. 

The movements slowed, Harry's body pouring over his, their breath shallow and quick. The kisses melting into pecks and then... laughter. Smooth and twirling, easy on their souls. 

"It's m-magic," Harry murmured, leaning his forehead against Draco's, opening his eyes, finally, finally to stare into his silver gaze. "Your magic, and mine. It's not erasing the past."

Draco's breath caught and then he exhaled, slowly, letting the time drag through the dark tops of the Forbidden Forest in the distance. "Then what is it? Harry?"

"It's painting over it, making it irrelevant, building over it - " Harry's brows furrowed for less than a second as he glanced down pulling their sleeves up to reveal a flowery pattern that began to unravel over the years of black. "- it's moving on."

Blossoms of peonies, lilies, daffodils, crocuses cracked through layers of concrete and a vine twined them all into a continuous bouquet of flowers that spread over both of their arms, connecting at the very tips of their fingertips.  _It's moving on._

Draco kissed Harry, hard but slow a twitch of a smile shining in the corners of their lips. They grinned when they pulled apart. Spring was on the horizon. 

Flowers were about to bloom.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! Feel free to leave kudos and/or comments if you liked it and check out my other work if you have some extra time.


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